


Endearment (A Song for You)

by kynths



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: Angst, Eventually smut when I get the courage, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gen, idk what else to write here, one shots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-06-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:35:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23843827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kynths/pseuds/kynths
Summary: A series of one-shots following the relationship between the Hero of Kvatch and Martin. I usually take these ideas from Tumblr posts and prompts lists. It's in second person and the hero is mostly genderless. You can find me on Tumblr as kynths!I'm writing a novelization of the main quest as well. If you are interested, the name is Post Tenebras, Lux!Thank you for reading! :)
Relationships: Hero of Kvatch | Champion of Cyrodiil/Martin Septim
Comments: 9
Kudos: 35





	1. Restlessness

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something at the beginning of their relationship :)

Stopping in Skingrad had seemed like a good idea this morning, Martin needed new robes and you needed some supplies because you both still had a few days till Weynon Priory. What you didn’t expect was how nervous you’d get once you reached the city gates. Anyone could be a disguised agent and you wouldn’t notice until it was too late if they decided to attack. So you made Martin wear a hood for precaution but decided to try and play it cool. He was already nervous enough for what happened in Kvatch two days ago and you didn’t want to add to it unnecessarily.

It was a sunny day but a cool breeze still blew inside the town, which you were glad for, you thought it would cool your nerves. That didn’t help much once you saw just how many people were on the streets at that time of the day. Anyone could be a threat, anyone could be a spy, anyone could be carrying a dagger hidden in their sleeves. Your restlessness was very much evident to him though, you got closer to Martin until your shoulders touched and you were glaring at everybody that passed by. 

“Are you alright?” his voice startled you, prompting you to touch the hilt of your sword. “Yes, yes why?” you sighed inwardly at how transparent you were but tried to keep your act by looking innocently to Martin. He raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced by your pretense but shrugged anyway “You look a little jumpy, is all”. Damn him, you got the feeling his eyes could see everything! What was the point in pretending? He had to know he was in danger even after leaving Kvatch. You knew that he’d only get more nervous if he saw your attitude but didn’t know why. You sighed once more and looked him in the eye, “There are too many people here. I fear we are an easy target for those who killed the Emperor. Let’s just get what we came for and get out, alright? Stick close to me, pull your hood up and keep your head down.” you told in a commanding tone, willing to make him obey without further questions. Which he did, bless him. 

You both made a beeline to the first shop, to buy Martin some new clothes. He looked too much like a priest and too much like one who had been through hell recently, which he had, but nobody needed to know that. Inside, the shopkeeper, a small middle-aged woman, greeted both of you with a gentle smile and began talking to Martin. Reclining at the doorstep, you waited. “Should be easy enough” you thought, he’d try the clothes, nobody’s going to see him, you’d keep an eye inside the shop, at the shopkeeper and watch the entrance at the same time. He chose some black robes which were still too priestly for your taste but if it suited him, you’d have to accept it. 

Still waiting for him to be done, something at the corner of your eye caught your attention, a metallic glow to your left inside the shop. Without thinking, you stepped inside and in a whirlwind of movement, grabbed the assaultant’s hand and prepared to pull your sword from the hilt. Their scream surprised you though, it sounded like the lady who was helping Martin with his clothes. 

You stopped and tried to access the situation above the adrenaline running through your veins. Looking at your right, you saw the woman’s trembling hand holding a scissor, at your front, the woman’s face, wide eyes, rapid breaths and her other hand trying to shield her face from your attack. Oh no. At your back, Martin looking something between surprised and afraid, furrowed brows, mouth agape and extended arms exposing…too big sleeves for his arms. Akatosh strike me down. She was going to cut the sleeves for him.

The blood drained from your face and came back rushing in a matter of seconds, leaving you looking like a wide eyed tomato. “ I…I…I’m so sorr…I…p-p-please forgive m…I just….” you tried babbling some horrible excuse for what you had just done but ultimately just went to the counter, left twice the cost in golden coins and left them to finish adjusting Martin’s clothes.

After some time, Martin joined you outside and you both made your way to buy the rest of the supplies. Sometimes he looked at you, and you couldn’t read his emotions or thoughts. Damn him again, his eyes could see everything but didn’t let anything out. Maybe he was questioning your sanity, or maybe thinking it’d have been better not to follow this bloodied stranger that showed up out of nowhere in his ruined chapel and was deranged enough to enter an Oblivion gate . Or perhaps he’s weighing his chances of outrunning you if he decided to escape. He didn’t say anything still, bless him again. Either way, it was your turn to pull your hood up and cast your eyes down. 

You went to the stalls to buy some fruits and meat for the rest of the journey. It all transpired swiftly and you were relieved you soon would leave the city. Still you couldn’t look Martin in the eye, never directed to word to him and he, thankfully, did the same. It was almost over and you were determined to look like a normal individual until he was not your responsibility anymore.

You made your way to the city gates, still casting your eyes down, while Martin carried the supplies you just bought. While looking down, you saw red at the corner of your eyes…red clothes…to your right. A cultist. In a hurry, you hastily grabbed Martin’s arm and pulled him with you to a nearby alley you could see to your left. Out of sight, you glared at the person with the red….dress. It was an innocent woman in a simple innocent red dress. Thank the Gods.

Letting out a loud sigh, you grabbed Martin’s shoulders and let your head fall to his chest. It was nothing. You would have to work on your anxiety and your impulsivity and you ability to access danger. How on Nirn were you able to survive inside an Oblivion gate? You didn’t know but, the way things were going, you began to think it had been pure luck. Only then you realised what you were doing and let go quickly of his shoulders and lifted your head to meet his eyes. This alley was narrower than you thought. 

Your bodies were almost touching and you could feel his breath on your face. You looked at him and found him looking unwaveringly at you. He was so close and...his eyes. You never thought humans could have eyes this blue. They were beautiful, wise, sad, too human, too inhuman, too kind yet stony. But you still couldn’t read them. Did he want to laugh at your stupidity? Was he cursing Akatosh for sending you as his savior? Did he want to run right now? Did he pity you? What was he thinking?? 

Your heart was beating too fast and you were sure your cheeks were tinged red but… his were too. And if you weren’t watching his eyes so closely, you would have missed how they fell to your lips for just one moment before snapping back up. In a blink of an eye after that, he had already left the alley and was already making his way to exit the city. What. 

Suddenly you realized you were holding your breath. Exhaling, you closed your eyes and wished this day to be over already as you picked your pace to reach Martin and leave Skingrad. The day ended with both of you with your hoods up and awkwardly staring at the ground.


	2. Caving in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From a prompt on tumblr. Enjoy!!

You tossed and turned laying in your bed in the Blades quarters. All the others were asleep, oblivious to your restlessness, to how your heart quickened at the tiniest noise, to how the warmth of the blankets around you reminded you of the blazing heat of Oblivion and to how the fabric of the bedroll beneath you felt like shards of glass against of your skin.

You sighed and brought your hands to your eyes, rubbing them tightly. You had to wake up early in the morning to go and close yet another gate. Dread filled you as you realized you were stuck in a vicious circle, in which you couldn’t get any rest and still had your battles to fight, where you would see and hear things that would fuel your night terrors and that, in turn, would prevent you from sleeping even more. And you couldn’t see a way out of this, at least not in the short term.

The spiral of misery you began entering was interrupted by the sound of voices in the hallway. Sharpening your hearing, you could distinguish Baurus’s and Martin’s hushed whispers but, after sometime, only one silhouette passed the Blades quarters, holding a candle in their hand. By the shape and height, it must be Martin. 

Huh, apparently it wasn’t just you having a hard time at sleeping. You sighed once again, wondering if you should go after him. Maybe he wanted to be alone, or wanted to eat something and then go back to sleep and didn’t need you pestering him. Or even he wanted to continue his translation of the Xarxes undisturbed by the constant presence of the Blades nearby. At that thought, you got up quietly, careful to not stir anyone from their sleep. You couldn’t let him keep stretching himself so thin, he was going to get sick, mad or collapse altogether.

Granted, he was hunched above the tome, running his hand through his disheveled hair nervously, scribing something frantically on a piece of parchment. You threaded carefully to not startle him and called his name softly when you were sure he could hear you from where you stood. And he still jumped at the interruption and turned quickly with wide eyes. He definitely didn’t look good, the bags under his eyes were the deepest you have ever seen them, his lips were chapped from him picking at the dry skin there, his eyes were bloodshot eyes from the lack of sleep and his face seemed sunken. 

You brought your hands in front of your body in a hopefully calming gesture and gave him an apologetically smile, “I-I’m sorry for startling you. I just wanted to see if you are ok”. Recovering from the small scare, Martin closed his eyes and let out a low laughter at his own stupidity, “No, my friend, I’m glad you are here” and gestured for the chair right in front of him. As you made your way to sit, he immediately shut the Xarxes, to prevent you from even glancing at its demonic pages.

“How are you?”, you inquired giving him a pointed look, to which he responded with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, “I just couldn’t sleep, so I figured I could continue my research. I’m fine, please don’t worry about it”. You held his gaze and lifted an eyebrow to show him your disbelief.

“Don’t lie to me Martin, I can see it in your face right now.”  
His face grew serious at that and he returned your gaze with the same intensity, “What about you, my friend? How do you feel?”

Could you add your suffering to his ever-growing, never ending pile of concerns? You didn’t want to burden him any further, he had already too many concerns and responsibilities to deal with. You wanted to help him, not add to it. 

“I’m fine, this is about you, not me.” At this, he gave you a humourless smile, never letting go of your gaze. “This is about the both of us then. Don’t think I don’t see, exhaustion is written across your face as well.”

You opened and closed your mouth twice, not knowing how to respond. Damn, you didn’t know your face looked so horrible. You didn’t want to have the exact behavior you were trying to scold Martin for, hiding your suffering till you inevitably break. You averted your gaze and cast it down, furrowing your brows. Reaching for his hand, you began a lazy thumb fight with him, anything to divert you from your embarrassment of showing you his weaknesses. “I can’t really sleep. Everything feels and reminds me of Oblivion, the adrenaline and fear are the same, even if I’m laying comfortably in my bed” you mumbled.

Martin softened his gaze and let out yet another humourless laugh, accepting your thumb fight match. “Well, in my case, every voice I hear outside of my room when I try to sleep, sounds like the one I hear in my head when I read the Xarxes. It is profane and inhuman. If wickedness, malevolence and violence had to have a voice, it would sound like this. The walls seem to be caving in and the hem of my blanket feels like a rope around my neck.”

You stopped moving your thumb then and gave him a haunted look, to which he responded with a sad and tired smile, that didn’t reach his eyes. How could he describe such horrible sensations as lightly as he did? You casted your eyes down again, “What do we do then?”

“I don’t know”

You sat in silence for a while, holding each others hands and looking down at the table. Suddenly, you lifted your head and said in a slightly lighter tone, “Well, since you said the walls seem to cave in and you feel like you’re suffocating, let’s go to a place where there are no walls and there’s plenty of air. Grab your pillow, your cloak and a blanket if you want and meet me outside.”

A few minutes later, you both met outside and climbed the roof of Cloud Ruler Temple. The night was not so cold as they usually were here, the air was clean and the moons and stars could be seen distinctly from where you laid. The chilly wind took away some of the unease you both felt. You laid down on your backs, side by side, reclining your heads on Martin’s pillow. He was clad in his cloak and you both held hands beneath the blanket, you drawing small soothing circles in his with your thumb. He let out a yawn.

You opened your arms to him and he gladly nestled in the crook of your neck, with your chin resting on the top of his head. The warmth of this little cocoon contrasted with the cold breeze that blew but, instead of feeling suffocated by it, you felt the coziest you ever remembered feeling. You put your arms around him and he, in turn, hugged your middle. Your breathing evened out, you caressed his chestnut locks on the top of his head and he rolled in his fingers the strands in your nape. Just before Martin fell asleep, he swore he felt a light kiss on his forehead and heard a low “Goodnight” before drifting to sleep, feeling the calmest he ever felt since Kvatch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Constructive criticism is welcome :)


	3. Ink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a small thing between Sarah and Martin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, this is one is a bit different, my Hero of Kvatch, Sarah, is in it. I don't know if this scene will be in my main quest novelization but I wrote it and decided to post it here.

"Who is Farric? ", Martin's voice snapped Sarah out of her thoughts. 

"W-what?", she stumbled on her words as she turned her face towards him, hoping that the cover of night masqueraded her blush.

"Farric, that name you have tattooed here", he explained pointing to one of her tattoos on her arms.

"O-oh..ah he was hmm a man I uh... saw a couple of times back when I fought in the Arena", she explained carefully, trying to avoid words that explicitly told what happened between them. 

Martin's eyes didn't leave her face the entire time and she almost flinched under his scrutinizing gaze.

Damn, she didn't want him to see it. In the best scenario, he'd find it mildly weird and in the worst, that she still liked the man. The gelid breeze outside Cloud Ruler Temple did nothing to cool down the warmth that crept to her cheeks.

Martin's eyes lowered again to the name on her skin, they looked a little dejected.

It was a simple tattoo, just the name without any other detail or embelishment and the caligraphy was brute and simple. He snapped his eyes to her face again and she averted hers, trying to look interested in the lights of Bruma ahead of her.

A few moments of silence passed between the two and relief flooded her mind as she thought he'd let the matter go. Until he spoke again.

"So hm is this Farric still uh... around?", Sarah closed her eyes tightly and cursed Martin for his nosiness. Had her discomfort not been obvious? She eyed him from the corner of her eyes.

His head was tucked between his shoulders and his hair fell between them, hiding his eyes but she could see how he fidgeted with the hem of his sleeves.

"Oh no, I haven't seen him in years."

Martin exhaled the air in his lungs and lifted his head to meet her curious gaze, his lips turning upwards in a unconscious small smile. Unfortunately for Sarah, he stopped it before it was fully formed and he set his lips in firm line instead, closing his eyes for a moment and returning his gaze towards the city lights.

"Still, he must have been pretty important to you", his voice came out small and he resumed fidgeting with his sleeves. She caught a glimpse of his face when the breeze blew his hair from his front, his lips were set in a thin line, eyes cast down and brows furrowed.

"No, no! He wasn't that important. I mean, I thought he was but he's...really not", she was quick to clarify. 

If she hadn't been watching his expression so closely, Sarah would've missed how his face lit up at her response, even when he tried to remain nonchalant.

"Well...I ..I assumed that...since you have it tattooed, I mean...it's permanent so... I thought..."

"No shit it is permanent". Why did he care anyway? Couldn't he just let it go?

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to pry", except he did.

"Uh yes, you did. You priests and your necessity for useless information."

"I'm sorry, hero, I was just curious."

Some time passed and gratefully, Martin didn't try to bring the subject back but Sarah felt she had to clarify everything.

"He was important for some time because he-"

"You don't have to explain, I understand it", Martin cut her mid sentence, placing his warm hands on top of hers and flashing her a comprehensive smile. 

"Still, you know-", she laughed a bitter laugh and continued, "I'm not exactly known for my well-thought decisions." Her voice was heavy with self deprecation and her smile didn't conceal the bitterness behind it.

"Was going into that Oblivion Gate one of these impulsive decisions?"

"Of course it was."

"Well, I'm glad that you made it, you saved a lot of peop-"

"Oh no please, Brother Martin, don't start with me. I'm starting to regret the decision since now I'm stuck with you.", the bitterness from before all but forgotten, as Sarah eyed Martin with a teasing smile.

"Whatever you say, hero.", Martin mirrored her expression.

"Shut up, priest."


	4. Light Touches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hero of Kvatch gives Martin the Sanguine Rose and it puts him in a whirlwind of emotions traumatizing memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk how I feel about this one, but anyways, here it is!

It had been fun, actually. After entering repeatedly Dagon’s realm, dealing with demon-like creatures every other day and getting used to seeing the sky turn red suddenly while walking from one city to another, you really weren’t very excited for having to get the blood of a Daedra for Martin. But running from guards only in your underwear after crashing the party from Countess Alessia Caro was like a gulp of fresh air amongst all the death, pain and preoccupation that plagued your life on a daily basis now. Yes, you felt the adrenaline running through your veins like you had felt when entering the Oblivion gate in Kvatch. But it was different. Running from the guards now felt as if you had eaten your sister’s candy and had to run before she found out. It was thrilling. So very different from the utter fear you felt everytime you had to run to take the sigil stone to close the gate. The more the gate remained open, the greater the chance that someone got killed. Even one second more could mean another life lost to Oblivion, and yet another for you to carry on your shoulders. No, the adrenaline you felt now was nothing like the one you got used to in the last weeks.

With the Sanguine Rose in you possession, you made your way back to Cloud Ruler Temple. You couldn’t wait to tell Martin. He could use a good laugh, like you. You smiled. He would turn red when you told him what happened and would scold you for being reckless. Then he’d smile that warm smile that never failed to make your stomach flutter and then he’d say that he was glad you were back safe while asking for details about your funny little adventure.

He definitely could use a bit of fun. As much as you loved his smile, it was increasingly rare for you to see it. In its place, dark circles beneath his eyes, disheveled hair, an permanent frown, even when he slept on the top of his books. Duty and anxiety weighed heavy on his shoulders and mind. He too knew that the longer he take to decipher the book, the greater would be the number of casualties. And there was nothing for you to do for him, besides bringing good news. Which was precisely what you were about to do now: you had completed to first step of your plan. Things were looking up!

The night was a bit warmer than the usual freezing weather of the Jerall Mountains. The skies were clear, no clouds, just the stars beaming from above. Maybe, if Martin wasn’t too tired you could sit outside and chat a little, it wasn’t terribly late after all. Beaming with childlike excitment, you opened to door to the main hall of Cloud Ruler Temple. He was sitting in his usual spot. A frown on his face that you couldn’t wait to dissipate. Hearing you approach, he lifted his head and the frown faded, an open-mouth smile taking its place, one that almost made you forgot how to breath. He got up and rushed to meet you. “Hello, my friend! Welcome back!”. He grasped you shoulders and beamed down at you, searching your face. Damn him, there you were snickering to yourself thinking he’d go red when you told him you had to run across Cyrodiil half naked and there he was making you flush simply by holding your shoulders. Now you felt like an idiot.

Looking his eyes closer though, there was something in there and you’ve seen it before. As if he reminded himself of something, he released your shoulders and now his smile didn’t quite his eyes anymore. He colected himself and returned to his colder and business-like self. You missed the warmth, you wish he displayed more often this warm demeanor. But everytime he allowed himself to be more open with you, even if only for a moment, that realizaton always passed through his eyes and he always retreated to his professional behavior. It seemed as if you were talking to a friend and the next moment you were talking to a priest. And between these to displays, that look in his eyes always marked the change. You wondered what it meant.

Determined to not look like a love-stricken fool, you willed the butterflies in your stomach and the questions in your head to calm the fuck down, beamed back and anounced in a proud voice “I brought what we needed for our plan!”, showing the Sanguine Rose.

Not taking your eyes from his, you watched expectantly for his reaction. His eyes run from one end to another, getting wider and wider until they stopped, utterly perplexed, fixed at the rose. The seconds ticked by one by one and your smiled faded a little more with each one. This wasn’t nearly as excited as you thought he’d be. He mouth opened a little, not because a smile was forming, but as if his jaw lacked the strength to keep it shut. His eyebrows curved upwards, as if he was in pain, until his whole face was contorted. Your own smile was completly forgotten, you could only stare at his face. You began to notice other things about his behavior: his hands were shaking and they were holding tight his robes, until the knuckles were white. You could see sweat forming near his hairline and his breathing was shallow and quick. The dark circles and lines on his face were proeminent like never before. You mirrored his expression: mouth agape, wide eyes and fear written all over you.

In a blink of an eye, he left, making desperately for the grand doors, opening them hastily and running outside.

You could only watch him doing it, while trying to steady your breathing. Fear was radiating from him. Fear, regret and utter despair. So much that it almost felt like a cold hand was squeezing your stomach. Snapping out of it, you followed him. Calling his name shakily, you found him on his knees outside, retching. You hurried to his side, pulling his hair out of the way. When he was done, you took him in your arms and held tight while he bawled in your shoulder. You lost track of time, you didin’t know for how long he cried, for how long you rocked him slowly, for how long you held the back of his head in a vain attempt of grounding him. His hold was bruising, his nails dig in you skin through the fabric of your shirt, but you couldn’t care less.

He went from bawling to silently weeping to being completely still. You knew he was still with you because of the unrelenting grip he had of your shirt and his shallow breathing. “I…” he began, and you tried to pry yourself away so you could look at his face but his grip stopped you. “Please don’t move, i-i..if I see your eyes, I won’t be able to speak”. He sounded heartbroken, like uttering these words was already an effort too great for him. So you put your arms around him again, rested your cheek on the top of his head and waited.

He told you everything then. Him running away from home, leaving his father behind, joining the Mages Guild as an young man. His lessons, his ambitions too great to be taimed by the narrow rules of the guild, him discovering Sanguine’s cult, him joining it, meeting Sanguine himself, what they’d done there, what people did to him, what he did to people. Him becoming Sanguine’s champion. And then, his foolishness, his arrogance, his pride and recklessness that got all of his friends killed. Him running away from the cult to beg his father for forgiveness. Him finding out that his father died while he was away, and he hadn’t even known it, he hadn’t even cared to check on his father. Him laying beside his father’s grave, not eating, not drinking water, shaking and vomiting from abstinence. Him ultimately making for Skingrad, apparently he was a coward even to die. Him begging in the streets in rags. And finally, a chance to repent, him accepting the help of a priest of Akatosh to leave his mistakes behind and dedicate his life to the Nine.

You could do nothing but hear attently, wide eyes and mouth agape. You knew he had his secrets as to how he knew so much about daedric magic, how he was the only one who could read the Mysterium Xarxes. The reccuring change in his eyes, the smiles that suddenly lost radiance, the touches that lasted to little, him switching between a warm self to a cold and distant demeanor. Everything made more sense.

“P-please forg-… Please forgive me. I don’t deserve your kindness but I can’t help but desire it. I can’t help but des… crave you and your smiles, crave the touch of your hands, crave your friendship, crave your laugh, crave your warmth, crave you with me. I don’t deserve it! But I want it! I am selfish even after all this time! You don’t deserve a man like me wanting you. After all you’ve done, all you’ve done for me, all you’ve been through. And how do I reward you? By having these unwanted and low feelings directed to you. I sor…I am…I can..t..” A pause and a deep breath. “I understand if you want to leave.”

Now this you couldn’t accept. This time you pried yourself away and stared at his swollen puffy eyes and red cheeks. His eyes were wide and the tears continued to fall freely. You had so much to say, so much that words didn’t seemed appropriate, you were determined to show how you didn’t feel any differently about him, how he still was wonderful, how you still loved him, that if anything, you loved him even more after knowing his history. How brave he was, how corageous, how honorable, strong and incredible he was to your eyes. You could see the fear of rejection written on his face. It seemed that as much as he believed he deserved to be despised, as much as he had prepared himself for this inevitable end, he still didn’t want it. As much as he tried to suffocate the hope that one would not judge him, he still had it, even against his will.

Taking hold of his face between you two hands, you stared intently at him for a minute, taking your time drying his tears as softly and delicately as you could, your hands were shaking too. His expression changed from fear to disbelief. Still holding his jaw with one hand, you let your other roam his face slowly. You started by pushing his hair out of the day and tucking it softly behind his ear. Then you traced the format of his cheekbones, his nose, until you were above his eyes and with a feather touch you closed them. Martin closed his eyes and let out a sigh. Tracing the slopes of his face in reverence, you brought your hand to his mouth and caressed it with your thumb. You hoped that, when words failed you, he could understand how you felt by your gestures. 

He still had his eyes closed and looked was about to cry again. You brought your lips to his cheek, and placed a light kiss there, then on the bridge of his nose, on his other cheek, on one of his eyes and finally on his forehead. Caressing his jaw and hair, you placed another one…and another. 

You rested you forehead on his. “Nothing will take me away from you.”. At that, he let out a sob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, constructive criticism is welcome.


	5. Plushy Socks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martin gets sick in Cloud Ruler Temple and it's up to the Hero of Kvatch to take care of him. *fluff intesifies*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was a request on Tumblr and I decided to post here as well! Enjoy!

It started with a few sneezes here and some coughs there. No one gave it much attention and specially not Martin. For a man that had lived his entire life accustomed to the warm weather and gentle cool breeze of the Colovian Highlands, it was understandable that he’d take some time to get used to the harsh cold on top of the Jerall Mountains. Snow fell for the majority of the year and the sunlight didn’t help much to warm his bones. The nights were even worse, even though Martin possessed the best room and blankets in the entire fortress by far.

Cloud Ruler Temple was another problem entirely. The cavernous building seemed to potencialize the strength of the wind. It blowed through cracks on the walls and ceiling and the structure itself created chilly passages of wind, forcing everyone to wear some kind of protection against the cold even in the warmest of the days. And because the windows and doors weren’t opened very often, dust easily gathered in every surface and object imaginable. For someone who had a predisposition for allergies, as Martin apparently had, this was a respiratory nightmare for him.

Beyond that, he spent every waking second pouring over a demonic book, written by a Daedric Prince in person. He barely slept or ate, and it got even worse when the Hero was not around. He didn’t eat, he didn’t sleep, he didn’t go outside and always had to keep his mind alert for the influences of that terrible book. He was understandably exhausted and his face showed it. Dark shadows under his eyes kept growing and deepening every day, his otherwise olive skin appeared pale and greyish and his wrinkles seemed almost as if they had been hammered on his skin. He didn’t look well but unfortunately, the Blades, Jauffre and you had got used to his appearance like this and no living soul seemed to be able to convince him of taking care of himself.

Until one night when you came back to Cloud Ruler Temple. Opening the grand doors of the building, you’d expected to be met by his warm, tired and gentle smile as he strode in your direction to greet you properly with a comforting hug and maybe a kiss to your forehead even. Instead, what you saw was him slumped in his chair, sleeping. It was a fairly common sight and you didn’t think much of it, until you approached his table and took a better look. His breathing was shallow and forceful, as if he was struggling to do so. Beads of sweat had gathered on his forehead, even though the night was brisk. Careful to not startle him, you brought your hand up to his forehead, he was burning.

“Baurus, help me carry him to his room, he has a fever.”, you told Baurus as he stood by your side eyeing Martin with equal concern. You returned your gaze and kneeled in front of him. “Martin..” you called softly, gathering his face between your two hands and stroking his cheek tenderly. No response. “Martin” you called more emphatically. He still didn’t answer. You took a quickly look at Baurus, who had this brow furrowed. “Martin!” you said on the edge of shouting his name. At that, his eyes snapped open and he looked around in confusion. Still holding his face gently, you directed his gaze to your face, to make him look at you. After focusing on who had been calling him, his face broke into a broad smile, despite how unwell he must have been feeling. Your began feeling the familiar butterflies in your stomach at the sight of it and at how his eyes seemed to have lightened a little. Scolding yourself mentally, you stifled the feelings and focused on the task at hand.

“Martin”, you said pointedly, “I think you have a fever, let’s go to your room, you need to rest”. He opened his mouth to say something but whatever he was about to speak was interrupted by a fit of coughing. You and Baurus waited for it to end and then, each one threw one of Martin’s arms around your shoulders and hauled him up, making your way to the Emperor’s Chamber.

Baurus stood outside as the both of you entered the room. You sat on the edge of the bed and you once again brought your hands to his face to access his temperature. Still burning, but his face didn’t look as pale as before. “I’m glad your back”, he took the chance to speak and completed, “I’ve missed you”. His voice was hoarse from the coughing and his breathing was superficial from the effort of climbing the stairs to the Chamber. Eyes falling to your mouth, he began closing the gap between you and you automatically closed your eyes and waited for the touch of his lips. He stopped short and your eyes snapped open in frustration. Looking at you apologetically, he began “I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t do it, don’t want you to-”, he was cut short as you brought you mouth to his, giving him a quick and sweet kiss on the lips.

Retreating, you flashed him a cheeky smile as you watched how his eyes took a moment longer to open again, “You know I couldn’t care less. I missed you too”, you said sweetly. Immediately, your expression was all business again as you spoke seriously, jabbing a finger in his chest, “And since I’m here, the task of taking care of you falls upon my shoulders. You go take a bath and wash away this discomfort you must be feeling. Then change into the most comfortable clothes you can find. I’ll get something warm for you to drink and something to relieve the pain in your throat.”

Martin scoffed and rolled his eyes at your bossy attitude, uttering mockingly “Yes, ma’m” as he searched for his clothes. While you made your way out, you said “Baurus will be here outside while I’m in the kitchens, if you feel unwell, you call him.”

In the kitchens, you searched for the ingredients you needed. For the tea, mint, cinnamon and ginger. As for relieving the coughing and the throat pain, you struggled to remember the recipe you had been taught. “It was….maybe...camphor and eucalyptus?” you whispered to yourself. Gathering all the ingredients, you made the tea and smashed, crushed and squashed the champhor and the eucalyptus leaves until they became a sticky paste.

Going back to the Emperor’s chambers, Baurus exited as you entered. Martin was freshly bathed, wearing comfortable pants, a warm wool shirt and plushy socks, he looked utterly mundane and soft and you thought you hadn’t seen him anymore adorable than he was now. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, finishing rolling his sleeves up. He looked a little better but still undoubtedly sick. He lifted his eyes from his activity and gave you a small smile. He eyes were brighter, his face was flushed from the steam of the bath and water dripped from his hair, but still you could see how his eyes were puffy because of his stuffy nose and the coughing, the bags under his eyes were still prominent and the wrinkles seemed to have faded just a little.

You flashed back a smile and approached him, extending your hand that held the steaming tea you’ve made, which he accepted thankfully. “Sit on the stool in front of the vanity, I’ll comb your hair for you”, you said as Martin savored the first sip of the tea. He watched your face closely as you carefully smoothed the knots in his hair, first with your hands and then with a comb. The warm orange light of the candles shone upon your face, making your eyes stand out from the rest of your face and the look you had in them made his heart skip a beat. The adoration you felt was written across your face, as you gazed at his reflection in the mirror, to see if he was enjoying the attention you were sparing him and let out a small smile every time you saw him staring back. The love you had for him was transparent in the way your hands moved as you massaged his scalp kindly, willing the tiredness and unease to go away. Your reflection in that mirror alone was enough to warm Martin more than any tea.

Forgetting for a moment about the Xarxes and his sickness, he closed his eyes and let himself enjoy how lightly your hands moved through his hair. His attention was brought back to the present when you asked him to hold his hair up while you rubbed the paste you had made in his neck and chest.

“What is this?” he asked curiously when you showed the light green paste. “It’s a remedy I was taught. It will help relieve the coughing, the stuffy nose and your sore throat.” you said as you rubbed as delicately as possible the mixture where you wanted. After that, you searched for a handkerchief to wrap around his neck and keep the area warm. You looked at his reflection and let out a satisfied smile at what you saw. Martin, on the other hand, felt like a child being taken care of by his mother. He didn’t feel ashamed, yet a bit embarrassed. It had been a long time since he was last spoiled and looked after like this, and he hadn’t realized how he had missed it.

“Sleep?” you asked lightly, clapping your hands together, to which Martin agreed. You took off your armor, leaving only the clothes you used beneath it and climbed first in the enormous bed. Opening your arms to him, you let him lay partially on the top of you, with his arm draped over your abdomen and his head resting on the crook of your neck. You pulled the warm and plush blankets above you two and blew the candles beside the bed. After that, you put both of your arms around his shoulders and let one of your hands rest on his jaw, rubbing it gently and resting your cheek on the top of his head. And in response, Martin let out a small noise as he nuzzled your neck. You took the chance to check on his temperature, he was cooler now but the fever would truly only pass in the next day.

Martin let the feeling of your breathing on his face and the gentle pressure of your hand on his jaw lull him to sleep and, as his conscience faded, he was sure this was the warmest he had ever felt in his life.


	6. Without Even Realizing It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A prompt from Tumblr: Martin gets badly injured after the battle for bruma and HoK helps him recover.

“Martin, I said once and I said a thousand times: I don’t want to learn magic!”, you huffed in exasperation.

“You simply can’t depend solely on healing potions to survive during those quests. You won’t have them always with you, sometimes you won’t last enough time to get back to the Temple for me to heal you, sometimes you won’t last long enough to find a city and I can’t have a Blade always tailing you to aid you if you fall.”, Martin said in a calm and yet rigid voice. 

“Fine, maybe you’re right but I don’t have the time right now! I have to prepare to leave to Sancre Tor!”, you tried every way to pierce through his logic which was impeccable as always.

“Exactly, this is one of the preparations. You don’t know what you'll find there and you’ll need all of your resources, so let’s begin.”, he responded easily, without taking his eyes from the spell tome of Restoration he was holding.

“Martin, I really don’t think I even have magicka in my body.”, you tried one last time, your excuses were getting more pathetic with each attempt.

Martin them closed the book and took hold of your face gently, “First, this is nonsense, because everyone is born with magicka within themselves and you have only to improve it”. After that, his eyes lost a bit of that determination and softed significantly, acquiring that same pleasing expression of yours, “Second, to know that you’ll have better chances of coming back to me alive will appease my heart a bit. Sending you on these quests is already hard enough and I want to think I’m helping you somehow”. He traced delicately the scar on your cheek with his thumb and added, “Please”.

Now, how could you argue with that? 

Taking hold of his hand and leaning against his touch, you let your lips curve upwards while rolling your eyes playfully, “Fine, if it’ll make you stop looking like a kicked puppy.”

Martin chuckled a bit and kissed your forehead, leading you to his chambers to get a bit more of privacy.

You sat with your legs crossed on his bed, waiting for him to close the door and light a fire in the hearth. After that, he sat across you and placed the tome open between the two of you.

“I’ll teach two spells: one for healing yourself and another for healing others. The most important aspect and step of casting a spell is visualizing the effect you want it to have. The clearer your mental vision is, the stronger the effect will be. How much magicka you have obviously determines the strength of your spell but it’s only the catalyst. What really matters is how well you can imagine the effect of the spell.”, Martin explained slowly and didactically. 

His eyes acquired this sort of shine, they were wide with excitement and bluer than the normal. You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees and hung on every word he uttered. Even if you didn’t learn anything from it and you couldn’t cast the spell, seeing him this happy about something was worth it.

“It’s easier to remember something, it’s easier to visualize something if it’s attached to an emotion or a feeling and we’ll use this to fuel the spell. The emotion must be linked to the effect of the spell, so I want you to think about a moment when you felt relief. Not happiness or joy, just relief or you felt like you were somehow healing. Can you do that?”

You struggled to remember. There was hardly a time since the beginning of the crisis when you felt relief or you felt relaxed. You were always so on edge because of the events happening all over Tamriel, always worried about Martin’s safety, the people’s safety, how much time you still had, if the next quest would be your last... But there was one moment.

The heat inside of an Oblivion gate was unbearable. Entering one was always a living nightmare but the first time was the most agonizing. The heat hit you in waves and, with each one, it felt like your skin was detaching from your body, it felt like all the water was evaporating from inside you till nothing was left. It made your clothes feel like they were flailing your arms and legs, like your throat was so dry that you couldn’t feel the air passing through it. The steam that smelt like sulphur invaded your nostrils and made you feel like your lungs were burning from the inside and even your tears evaporated as soon as they left your eyes.

So, when you were tossed out of the gate as it collapsed, feeling the rain fall upon your face and body was like a balm to your soul. It made you open your mouth and gasp to try and collect the droplets in hope they would ease the agony coming from inside you. Your body felt yours again, it didn’t feel like an excruciating cage anymore. This was the moment. The moment you felt the most relieved in your entire life.

Coming back from the reminiscence, you eyed Martin. He was watching you closely, watching your reaction intently as he waited for your response. You gestured with you head, indicating you already had a feeling in mind. He opened a smile in approval and continued, “Usually when you feel a strong emotion, it manifests physically in your body too. You can feel like your stomach is burning, like there’s a burning in your chest or behind your neck. Where do you feel it?”.

Concentrating on the memory of the droplets on your face, you paid attention to the sensations on your body. The memory ignited a strange sensation inside your throat, where the rain eased your discomfort at the time. Opening your eyes, you placed your hand on the spot, indicating where you felt whatever Martin was talking about.

“Very well, you’re doing good!”, he praised your efforts and flashed you a big smile, making you giggle a little and cast your eyes down, feeling flutters in your stomach because of his smile. It was so rare and so beautiful you always felt flustered at the sight of it.

“Now, the most crucial part is turning this feeling into a palpable manifestation. I want you to imagine this feeling like a liquid, a liquid that is flowing from that spot in your throat to the tips of your fingers. Like rolling waves of magicka that bring, along with them, the effect of the spell. Turn that memory into liquid and make it flow to your fingers.”, he explained it, drawing a path with his left fingers from his chest to his right hand, where a golden glow appeared. He made it look easy.

“Your turn.”, he gestured to you and waited expectantly for your try.

For the next hour and a half, all that could be heard from inside the room were your groans in frustration, an occasional punch on the bed, Martin’s conciliating and encouraging words and some slurs.

After nearly two hours, finally a small golden glow appeared at the tip of your fingers. You opened a big smile in victory and Martin tried to pull into a hug, laughing together with you. You dodged his attempt and said laughing “No! No, no! You stay away! If this thing here disappears, it’ll take another two hours to cast this again! You are distracting me!”.

“Oh, am I that distracting, my love? What are you going to do? Carry this spell like a lantern everywhere?”, he responded, still giggling at your act.

“Yes”, you answered in a low voice, kissing him but keeping your hand at a safe distance. He reciprocated your kiss, reaching for the hand that held the spell and dispeling it. 

“Thank you for teaching me.”, you managed to whisper between kisses. You were laying face to face on his bed, legs entwined, he had his arms around you and your hands caressed his neck and cheeks.

“It’ll become more automatic the more you practice it. You won’t even have to mentalize the memory, the feeling it evokes will have been memorized and the spell will come off more easily.”, he answered, looking dazzled at your eyes and placing small pecks on your cheeks and down your neck.

“Are you going to tell me what you think about when you cast this spell?”, you inquired with loving eyes, softly caressing the few grizzled strands of his hair near his ear and kissing lazily his bottom lip.

“One day, but not now.”, he answered and silenced you with a deeper kiss.

\----------------------------------------------------

Entering an Oblivion Gate with a limited time to reach the Sigil Stone, knowing that the destruction or not of an entire city depended on your ability to complete this task and knowing that the survival of the man you loved also depended on it had been scarry. Nerve-racking actually. But it was no match for the gelid terror you felt when you returned to Tamriel to see Martin being carried away by some soldiers. He had been pale, bloodied, his armor was damaged and a wound on his torso bled profusely.

Now you sat quietly beside his bed in a room of the Castle Bruma, looking at his chest rise and fall with his quiet breathing. The healer had assured you that he’d survive and it was only a matter of time until he woke up. Still, it had not been enough to quiet your nerves, you’d only relax when his eyes opened and you heard his voice.

Martin was dressed in a clean white tunic, his torso underneath was wrapped in bandages, his left eye was still purple but the swelling had diminished and he had a deep cut going from his chin till near the right side of his nose. His lips were chapped with some red dots on it but his face had now a more healthy color to it.

You didn’t know for how long you stayed staring at his face, looking for any sign of movement or consciousness. It wasn’t until his eyes twitched a bit and he inhaled more deeply that you allowed yourself a bit of hope.

He slowly opened his eyes, they were a bit unfocused at first but were bright and lucid, focusing immediately when your face appeared in his sight. He opened that breathtaking big smile and reached with his hand towards yours. However, Martin stopped short and the smile disappeared with the movement as he must have felt a painful sting on his torso.

Immediately you kneeled beside his bed, despite the achings in your body and your tiredness, and took one of his hands while the other rested by his head, sweeping the strands there from his face. “Don’t move, I’m here. Everything is fine”. He tightened his shaky grip of your hand and smiled a bit. Still caressing his head, you continued, “Are you thirsty? Hungry? Do you want me to get anything for you?”

He didn’t say anything, only brought his face to yours and stole a small kiss from your lips while caressing your knuckles with his thumb. You giggled a little and answered by opening your mouth a bit to invite him in. Smiling himself, he took the chance and captured your lips in a passionate kiss, ignoring his conditions and the discomfort he must have been feeling. Your lips danced against each other in a languid and slow choreography, until you were interrupted by a rumbling coming from his stomach. 

You retracted your face from his and watched in amusement as a blush overcame his features and Martin tried to look anywhere but your eyes. Your crystalline small laugh made his eyes snap to yours and he let out a small contained chuckle, to not provocate another wave of pain through his body.

“I’m sorry. Yes, perhaps I’m a bit hungry and thirsty.”, he admitted in a hoarse and low voice. 

You walked to the door and told one of the guards the Emperor was awake and he’d like a meal. 

Returning to your spot beside his bed, Martin was eyeing you with nothing but adoration and love. You kneeled again and continued to caress his hair and now his chest underneath the tunic, avoiding the places you knew that were injured.

“How do you feel?”, you asked with a concerned expression in your eyes.

“Better now that you are here.”, he responded, lifting his hand and playing with one of the loose strands of your hair that fell around your face.

“Ok, no need to try and flatter me. I know you must feel like shit right now.”, you joked, rolling your eyes and smiling mockingly.

“No, it’s true. Your presence makes everything hurt a little less, your touch feels like a summer breeze upon my skin and the timber of your voice reminds me of the sound of a crystalline stream. Thank you for staying here with me. I imagine you are feeling exhausted yourself.”, Martin showered you in compliments you didn’t really know how to respond. You hated when he got so eloquent and specially when he compared you to the wonders of nature. The only thing your mind could come up in response was “Yes, you are handsome too and I love hearing your voice.”

So you settled for casting your eyes down and letting your lips form a small flustered smile. He did it on purpose, he knew his words had this effect on you. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. You got up quickly and answered it. It was a maid bringing a tray with a bowl of stew and a glass of water. Thanking the maid, you made your way back with his meal.

You helped him into a sitting position, rather than laying on his back. He made for the bowl but you snatched it from his reach, smiling smugly at his confused face. You had your ways of making him flustered too. 

Martin stared blushing as you presented to him a spoon of stew and waited for him to eat it. He stared at you, not believing you were doing this, but indulged you in your childish joke and ate what you offered, while smiling flustered. You fed to him the whole bowl and, after that, the glass of water.

“What was that for? I could have eaten for myself.”, he said while reclining against the bed frame, still with a shy smile coloring his face.

“Two can play this game. Since you can make me blush by saying my eyes look like the stars above or my hair feels like the soft grass of the Colovian Highlands between your fingers, I figured I could make you feel just a bit flustered as well.”, you answered with a wink and a smug smile still plastered on your face.

“Well, you certainly achieved that, now I’m feeling like a child and--ugh!”, his words were interrupted by a groan that escaped his throat. Martin was trying to return to a lying position but the motion sent a spark of pain from the wound on his torso. Your smile immediately disappeared from your face and you aided him to settle in the position he wanted, but his face was still strained from the effort and the pain after that.

Without thinking, you recollected all those lessons in Restoration Martin taught you. Pulling the hem of his tunic up and unwrapping delicately the bandages that were already stained red, you willed your mind to focus on the memory.

You closed your eyes and remembered the relief you felt when the rain touched your burned face after your first Oblivion Gate, how it relieved the pain on your skin, how it appeased your heavy and afraid heart. You wanted him to feel the same relief now.

Imagining that burning your throat was sending energy waves to your fingers, you focused on the spell. When the tingly feeling reached your fingers, you tried imagining the same feeling flowing from your hands to his wound and suddenly, the room was drowned in golden light. 

Noticing this, you focused on it even more, willing every drop of magicka to flow from your body to his along with the golden light. Your face was strained because of the effort and the concentration and a few droplets of sweat gathered in your hairline. Stabilizing the spell, you dared to look at his face and the breath was knocked out of your lungs. His eyes reflected the golden light and they looked like they were made of melted gold. But what struck you more was the look in them, a mix of admiration, love, tenderness that made you desconcetrate from the spell. 

The light died out but you didn’t have the time to feel bad about it, because Martin wasted no time in pulling you to him and capturing your lips again in a passionate and tender kiss. Pouring every ounce of emotion in it, he kissed you like no words could express the depth of the emotions he was feeling at the moment.

“You still haven’t told me the memory you pick when you’re performing healing spells.”, you stated as you stared at his blue eyes, a little breathless from the kiss.

Martin blushed a little but didn’t avert his eyes from yours and, caressing the scar on your cheek, responded, “When I told you about my past and you didn’t leave me. When I showed the very worst of me and you still stayed. That’s the moment when I felt relieved the most, that’s the moment I felt I began healing. That’s the memory I use.”

You were speechless.

“You’ve been healing me for a long time now, without even realizing it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Constructive criticism is welcome! As you could see, I took a lot of inspiration from Harry Potter when I tried to imagine how people cast healing spells. I also searched a bit on Reddit. I hope you enjoy!


	7. grey, red, golden, blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hero of Kvatch witnesses Martin vanish after defeating Dagon and it sends them in a rampant spiral of desperation and anger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I liked this one :)

When the dust settled and the sun once again shone upon you, the silence was deafening. The city, before drowned in screams of agony, screams of pain, unholy and unrecognizable noises of nefarious creatures, curses, pleas for the ever-silent gods, was now completely still. It seemed no one dared to draw a breath, still trying to access what had just transpired. The sky once blood red was blue as it always had been and the sun casted its warm light upon yours and everyone’s faces.

“But now I must go. The Dragon waits”

No, the battle wasn’t anywhere near over for you. Where was Martin? You could only watch in confused terror as his blood ran from the cuts in his palm when he shattered the Amulet of Kings. His hands that so many times you had kissed, that so many times had run through your hair, warm and calloused from flipping too many pages. The eyes that had never showed anything but kindness, reverence and concern for you had been focused on his enemy, in a stony and determined yet frightened stare. And his lips, the lips that you had kissed countless times, lips that had kissed your eyes when you cried, your forehead when you needed comfort and had never left anything out but kind words, had been set in a firm line. What happened next would be forever burned in your mind. And yet, you were sure that, no matter how many times you revisited it, you wouldn’t be able to remember a thing besides the horrified awe you had felt.

But now Dagon was gone, Martin should return anytime now. You remained kneeled, clutching your side that stung from a wound inflicted by one of the countless daedra you killed that day. Your heartbeat still pounding in your ears and your shallow breath were the only noises you heard. You didn’t want to make a sound in fear you’d miss Martin calling your name when he returned. Anytime now, you were sure. He’d appear from that cold grey statue, bruised, tired and ragged but he would appear.

Anytime now.

You stood up. Maybe he had already returned but was somewhere amidst all the rubble from the collapsed ceiling and couldn’t see you. Very carefully, you stood up and called his name. Nothing. You took small quiet steps and walked around the statue, always calling his name softly. Nothing. A big empty nothing.

Maybe he was still inside the statue? With one last hope fighting to survive the growing dread in your soul, you put your ear to the statue. Also nothing.You didn’t know what you had expected but the frigid silence hit you like the last nail in a coffin. 

The cold settled like a stone in your stomach and suddenly, standing up straight had become much more tiring and difficult. The sun was shining upon your face but it felt like it was mocking you. He couldn’t be gone, he was alive just now!! You didn’t see him die! He had to be here somewhere! 

You remembered the warm feeling of his hand in yours as you ran to the Temple of the One, you remembered his firm and steady voice shouting orders and railing the people to not lose hope in such dire situation, you remembered his hands cradling your face as Dagon raged outside, he didn’t even kiss you…How could he be gone?? He was solid and palpable mere minutes ago! Suddenly, you heard breaths and felt something warm in your face. Martin. You knew it. You turned your face to the statue, wanting to see how he would appear from it. But…the stone remained sharp and unrelenting beneath your touch, no crack, no light, no nothing. 

The warm had been the tears you hadn’t realized you were shedding and the breathing was you trying desperately not to suffocate.

A fog the color of the unliving stone in front of you took hold of your mind. No thought passed in your head and no feeling took hold of your heart. The ice in your stomach spread to all your body and even your tears felt icy upon your cheeks, the sun felt like rain pouring over you and you stood unmoving in front of the statue. All noises ceased to exist and the grey from the stone took hold of your vision entirely. Nothing existed but it. Nothing existed beyond it. Nothing existed after it. It destroyed your very reason to exist. So you would destroy it in turn.

Red

Suddenly, red. Blind rage. The unrelenting grey in your mind gave way to pulsating blood red again. Red in your fingertips as you scratched and ripped your nails in the stone, painting it red. The grey enraged you, you would paint it the color you wanted, and it was red. Red like the fires that burned in Oblivion, red like the Amulet of Kings, red like the passion and love you felt for him during the last months, red like the pain you felt as you ripped yourself apart in that temple. Rage and blood were better than the unrelenting grey. Red in your knuckles as you broke your wrists and fingers punching restlessly the grey stone. You wouldn’t stop, you couldn’t stop. Stopping meant accepting the numbing grey of that damned stone that once was Martin.

You barely felt as the stone began cracking beneath you incessant assault, you barely saw the gold that seeped through the crack, you barely felt as Baurus grabbed you from behind and hauled you from the dragon, yelling for you to stop. You wrestled, fought, kicked, spat, punched, until both of you toppled and fell as a blinding golden light swept the whole place. 

Rather than exploding, the whole statue dissolved in golden light, it reminded you of the color from the healing spells Martin used to cast in you. The sun that shone through the particles of dust combined with the light created a golden filter that permeated the place. You didn’t dare to hope, you couldn’t go through the grey haze that made you hostage before. Anything was better than the grey. But your vision focused and a figure lying amidst the rubble. Hope, golden like the freckles in his skin, golden like his hair when the sun hit it right, golden like the healing spells he casted, golden like his love that healed your very soul, golden like the sunsets you used to watch together sitting on the roof of Cloud Ruler Temple, seeped through the red rage that began to die down within you. You ran.

Kneeling beside the figure, you swore you could cry, maybe you already were. It was him. Pale, bruised, wounded, but alive nonetheless. But barely. 

No, you wouldn’t feel that grey again, you couldn’t go through that again, it would be your undoing. Clutching that golden hope for dear life, you began working on healing Martin. Golden swirled from your fingertips as you hastily fixed your wrists. Golden swirled from your fingertips and spread over his wounded chest as you put every ounce of magicka, hope and love you had within yourself to stabilize him, at least until a more skilled healer arrived. The golden of the sunlight was all you could see as you collapsed from sheer exhaustion by Martin’s side.

You woke up to see a blue sky. Laying in a bed in white sheets beside a enormous window, you felt weightless. You couldn’t feel the feeling of fabric touching your body, you couldn’t feel the weight of metal weapons and armor pulling your body to the ground, you couldn’t feel the pain of your wounds. The blue from the sky invaded every sense and every fiber of your being and you felt as if you were floating above the calm and undisturbed waters of Niben Bay. Blue like the soothing waters by the Gold Coast, blue like the sky you so missed seeing when you had to enter an Oblivion Gate.

Blue like Martin’s eyes, as he gazed upon you, laying by your side in bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is based on a headcanon I have for my Hok, that she breaks her wrists and fingers as she punches and scratches the statue and can't bring herself to care about the pain. But I wanted to give it a happy ending because I'am hopeless romantic.
> 
> In case it wasn't clear:  
> grey = desperation and hopelessness
> 
> red = anger
> 
> golden = hope
> 
> blue = calm and peace

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like it, folks! Constructive criticism is always welcome!!


End file.
